A Mythology Mixup
I’m in need of a pot of gold so a rainbow I must find.
First a rain dance I must perform, I hope that you don’t mind.
It must be danced at the dawn of day, or as the sun does set,
Because when the sun lies low in sky the rainbows shine the best.
Now pots of gold are an Irish lore and I am not of that clan,
And rain dances are performed by the natives of our land.
I hope that mixing cultural norms does no real harm to me,
But I come from a boring lot with no fantastic mythology.
So I danced around chanting words I made up while I hop.
I did it on a cloudy day the weather man said the drought would stop.
I wore a green hat and leather spats and four leaf clovers in my hair,
I was amazed when through the haze a rainbow did appear.
I followed the rainbow with high hopes, praying I chose the right end.
I’m willing to share the gold with you and the rest of my friends,
But when the end I finally reached there was no pot of gold there,
Just unicorns, magical horns, and Medusa with snakes for her hair.
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